I liked it better when people ran the world instead of machines and self-serve counters.

Take my local library, for example. When we first started going there after we moved into town, nothing was automated. In fact, the library still used card files. Each book had a card assigned to it that was kept in a pouch just inside the cover. To search for a book, you went through the drawers of cards located in the center of the library – each drawer marked alphabetically and each card marked with the Dewey Decimal System so you could locate it on the shelves. When you wanted to check a book out, you went to the front desk where the librarian stamped the card with the due date and reinserted it in the pouch.

Tedious?

Perhaps. But there was an opportunity to enter into conversation with others, albeit in a whisper. The librarians were familiar faces, and many of them lived right in our neighborhood. It was a gathering place for the people of the city, and I liked being called by name when I entered.

Now, my library has rows of self-checkouts and far fewer librarians. Sometimes I’ll get a “hello” when I enter. Then, I go to a computer to search for the book I want. The library has been remodeled so that we can go to the shelf and retrieve the books we’ve had transferred from other libraries instead of asking for them at the checkout counter.

Don’t get me wrong. I still love our local library. There still are a couple of “old” faces among the new ones, and the remodel does offer awesome spaces to sit and read. It’s still a gathering place to a degree.

Yet, it feels different.

I had a similar experience with one of our local grocery stores. When they installed self-checkout aisles, the store took on a different atmosphere. Folks lined up with their groceries, most facing directly ahead, and few speaking to anyone including the persons they were shopping with. They checked out and bagged their groceries without saying a word to anyone. Perhaps the change of atmosphere changed the minds of the powers that be. A couple of weeks ago, I noticed that the same store had pulled all the self-checkouts and reinstalled cashier-operated checkouts.

I was thrilled!

It’s not just my small Midwestern town that’s joined the automation trend. It’s small towns and big towns all over the country. All over the world.

I’m not a fan.

I understand that automation is more efficient and that it can save mega-bucks. But I also understand that it takes away something essential from our lives.

Human interaction.

True, we can have interaction through cell phones, social media and communication apps like Skype and Google Hangout. But, it’s not the same as speaking to someone face to face, looking into their eyes, experiencing their gestures and reactions and feeling their presence before you.

What’s more, it’s not the same as feeling Christ’s presence before you.

We are all made in the image and likeness of God, and that includes our fellow patrons at the library, grocery store, bank, or gas station. It includes those who work in those places as well.

Our Lord told us, “Amen, I say to you, whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me.” (Mt 25:40)

And St. Paul told us, “For God who said, ‘Let light shine out of darkness,’ has shone in our hearts to bring to light the knowledge of the glory of God on the face of [Jesus] Christ.” (2 Cor 4:6)

Basically, what our Lord and the Apostle to the Gentiles is telling us is that, when we’re interacting with other human beings, we’re interacting with Christ. Or, at least we should assume so.

When we strip our day-to-day doings from the possibility of real-life contact, we strip ourselves of the benefit of connecting with other people, of experiencing their humanness (granted, for better or worse as I’ve seen with certain grumpy cashiers), and of the possibility to both serve and respond to the Christ in them.

If it becomes extreme, we may even strip ourselves of the sense of belonging and co-responsibility for, and co-dependency on, others.

Go ahead. Call me archaic. But, I still like doing things the old way.

Like the time in the Church when adultery meant adultery? Before the Vicar of Christ chose to substitute the word ‘Irregular’ in place of adultery? Yeah, I liked those times. Someone named Fulton Sheen comes to mind. But he was a very ‘rigid’ bishop, of course.

Posted by sarah mac on Sunday, Apr, 10, 2016 7:57 PM (EDT):

I knew this would come up: automated check-outs eliminate jobs. This is a fallacy. The machine in front of you didn’t just magically appear. It represents the jobs of engineers, salesman, and computer techs, as well as the manufacturing jobs of the people who built it and the raw material jobs of those who collect and manipulate the plastics, rubber, and metal working parts. Please also don’t forget that machines break, requiring someone who gets paid to fix it. And finally, there is the on-site cashier assigned look over as many as 6 of these machines to assist people with operating them and preventing theft. These machines don’t cost anyone their job. Rather they create a new industry of highly paid office jobs for those with degrees and manufacturing jobs for those without them.
The result is more express lane check-out options, saving you time so that you can spend more of it doing things you enjoy; something a store owner might not otherwise be able to offer.
I would also like to add that they provide a level of privacy for those who may have to purchase items that can be embarrassing.

Posted by Rosemarie kury on Saturday, Apr, 9, 2016 9:14 PM (EDT):

I’m with you about these things. I remember the library cards too, and enforced silence there too. When we moved to our present city 37 years ago, we actually had a library mobile that came once a week. Then we had a small library within walking distance a block away. Both my daughter and I are readers so we piled on books (only 3 at a time then). It was heaven and we knew the librarians. Now our library is not only automated but busy with meetings, etc. our local grocery store also has auto checkouts but they also have cashiers and I choose to go in these aisles so I can talk to the clerks. I also know that self service lines saves the stores from hiring too many clerks, so I’d rather save someone a job. It’s true. All of this has curtailed human communication, and I wish we could get rid of self service gas stations self service checkouts, but I think it’ll get worse. Soon they’ll probably have some kind of robotic help. It may save us money, but how sad to see machines 1, humans 0.

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Marge Fenelon is a Catholic author, blogger, speaker, and award-winning journalist. She’s a long-time correspondent for National Catholic Register, a columnist for the Milwaukee Catholic Herald and the author of several books on Marian devotion and
Catholic family life. She’s also a weekly contributor to Relevant Radio’s “Morning Air Show” and a popular guest on several other Catholic radio and television shows. Along with her husband, Mark, Marge also works as an educator in the Apostolic Movement of Schoenstatt. Together they have four grown children.